


What a Name Can Bring

by All_The_Monsters



Series: 16 Glenya Requests [7]
Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Gleb x Anya, Glenya, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 21:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_The_Monsters/pseuds/All_The_Monsters
Summary: "What does it mean, Mama? How will I know which Gleb is the right Gleb and not the wrong one?" Anastasia had asked, furrowing her brow and scrunching her nose.Mama had just smiled and pushed Anastasia's hair back behind her ear, before responding, "You'll know, dear, you'll know."





	What a Name Can Bring

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Anastasia musical characters  
> Request: Soulmate AU

When the names finally appeared on her wrist young Anastasia had been eager to read the swirling Cyrillic letters telling the name of the person who was to be her other half and true love, and on the opposite wrist a warning of whom was to be her worst enemy. But when she first read the names confusion soon replaced the excitement. On her left wrist, the name of her soulmate, the swirling letters spelling out Глеб, Gleb, and on the other wrist- mthe same name. 

"What does it mean, Mama? How will I know which Gleb is the right Gleb and not the wrong one?" Anastasia had asked, furrowing her brow and scrunching her nose.

Mama had just smiled and pushed Anastasia's hair back behind her ear, before responding, "You'll know, dear, you'll know." 

That night Anastasia wondered at the cruel trick of fate, perhaps it was punishment for hiding rocks in her snowballs, or scaring the servants and picking on her sisters. They always warned her it would come back around to bite her in the end, and now it seemed they were right. 

When Anya had first woken up in the hospital the names on her wrist had been the last thing on her mind, never even looking at them until after she'd left the hospital, only catching sight of the names on her wrists as she tracked across Russia. Looking at them seemingly for the first time again Anya furrowed her brow, as if life hadn't pulled a cruel one on her yet, her soulmate just had to have the same name as her worst enemy. How convenient. Over the years Anya forced herself to focus on herself and the only thing she had from her past, shining lights and bridges and a yearning for Paris, and not on worrying over which Gleb was the right Gleb.

Years came and went and Anya found herself sweeping her way across Petersburg (newly named Leningrad), with thoughts of soulmates and right Glebs and wrong Glebs far away, the gritty pavement bellow her at the forefront of her mind. The constant sound of the straw strands of the broom sweeping across the pavement was almost rhythmic in a way and calmed Anya, the only thing breaking managing to break the bubble of calm devotion to her work around her was the loud echoing crack of something near by. Without meaning too, Anya released her broom and fell to the ground, desperately covering her head with her hands and curling up, as if to protect herself from some fearful memory in the back of her mind. Her head shot up as someone grabbed her arms, hoisting her to her feet. Her first instinct was to fight to scream and kick and sob and get away, get away now, until she looked up and met the man's gaze. There was no malice, or anger, or hate in those deep brown eyes, only gentleness and a certain kind of understanding. Anya stood and watched as he released her and bent to retrieve her broom from the ground. When he stood again Anya realized he'd been speaking to her and felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment. 

"You're shaking." He commented placing a gentle hand on her arm before continuing, "There's a tea shop just steps from here, allow me-"

"Thank you." Anya suddenly regained the ability to speak, and began to pull the broom from his grasp. 

"What's your hurry?" Anya's heart dared to skip a beat at the concern in his voice. 

"I can't loose this job, they're not easy to come by..." Anya said as way of explanation. "But thank you." With that he released her broom and Anya began off again down the square. 

"I'm here everyday!" Anya stopped and looked back over her shoulder as the man called out to her, a friendly lopsided grin on his face. Anya offered a small smile at this stranger's act of kindness.

Truth be told, Anya never expected to see the handsome soldier again, but as fate would have it she found herself face to face with the man once more, only this time on notably less friendly terms. Anya hadn't known it was him at first, his back had been turned to her as he looked out the window and lectured her on good apples and bad apples, but as he turned to her he stopped mid sentence as a look of recognition passed over his face. 

"It's you! The frightened little street sweeper! I can see you've stopped shaking, that is good..." he suddenly looked unsure of himself and began to fumble with the hem of his uniform jacket before straightening it. 

"Why was I brought here? I've done nothing wrong." Anya protested. 

"I should think not," He shook his head and looked up from the desk in front of him. "How rude of me, I'm afraid I've failed to introduce myself. Deputy Commissioner Gleb Vaganov, at your service." The man, Gleb, offered his hand. As he spoke his given name Anya couldn't help but inhale suddenly, her hands twitching towards her wrists. A stern woman's voice in the back of her mind admonished her for being so rude as Anya realized she had neglected to shake Gleb's hand and introduce herself. By the time she came to herself Gleb was already pulling his hand back dejectedly. 

"Anya." Her voice was so quiet Gleb barely heard it. 

"Pardon?" 

"Anya, that's what they call me." Anya spoke up. 

"They?" Gleb questioned as he pulled out the chair to his desk to sit across from her. 

"The nurses at the hospital where I woke up after they found me... it seemed I was...displaced after the revolution." Anya didn't know why she was telling him this, especially when she didn't know with Gleb this might be. 

"Oh... I am sorry to hear that, but why did the nurses feel they had to name you?" Gleb furrowed his brow. 

"I couldn't remember anything, I still don't." Anya it was Anya's turn to fiddle with the hem of her coat. There was a short silence before Anya looked back up again and repeated her question from earlier, only calmer. "Why am I here?"

"Right, well..." Gleb sat up and suddenly seemed so much less friendly than before, "Apparently some of my comrades feel you were a suspicious character." 

"Suspicious character?" Anya parroted. 

"Yes... you have been spending an awful lot of time around the old Yusupov palace in recent times, is that not correct?" Gleb looked at her from across the desk. 

"I can't help where the department sends me, besides, it's a beautiful building." Anya lied easily and shrugged her shoulders. 

"Indeed, it is... be careful, Anya." Gleb didn't have a clue where the last part had come from. "The next officer won't be so kind." Part of him hated the way Anya stiffened and swallowed roughly. "But their won't be a next time, will there?" 

Anya shook her head quickly, her eyes full of fear. 

"Good..." Gleb seemed almost resentful at being the cause of Anya's fear, meanwhile Anya was struggling to read him, trying to separate him from the name on her left wrist to the name on her right.

A thick silence soon settled over them as Anya continued to fiddle with the hem of her coat. 

"Tea?" 

Anya looked up unexpectedly and blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Would you like some tea?" Gleb repeated, gesturing to the tea tray on the corner of his desk. 

"Oh...um..." Anya trailed off before shrugging. 

Anya watched on as the only sound filling the room came from the tea pouring into the mugs, and the silence that followed somehow didn't feel uncomfortable. Anya gratefully accepted the steaming mug offered to her, smiling softly in return and desperately trying to ignore the shock that was sent through her as their fingertips brushed. 

Gleb hesitated slightly, rubbing his fingertips against each other before quickly resuming his actions and reaching for the last mug. 

"So... Anya," Anya looked up from her mug as Gleb finally spoke as he took his seat with his own steaming cup, "How do you suppose our beautiful city does?" 

Anya shrugged her shoulders before frowning. "Well, I guess it really depends on who you ask, you," Anya gestured to the man in front of her, "for example, might see a beautiful Leningrad on the rise, while for other there is nothing new about the bleak and unforgiving streets of St. Petersburg." At seeing Gleb was about to correct her Anya continued on, "And called it whatever; Leningrad, Peterograd, Petersburg, it's all the same in the end. Same dull skies, same cold pavement, same painful stomachs, and the same empty promises."  

"I think you'll find your last point misguided, while the skies might be dull and the pavement dull, the promises of this new regime are far from empty." Gleb pointed out. 

Anya snorted into her mug at this, and them quickly realizing whom she was in face seated across from quickly apologized before responding, "Pardon me, but it's just, this 'promise' has taken so long and so much from so many." Anya shook her head slightly, debating whether or not to continue, "This 'promise' has taken children from their mothers, and snuffs out any hope for any other way. This 'promise' took over half my life away, I don't know if I ever was a child at all, I no not my family, my Mama or Papa, or if I had a brother or sister, all I know for certain is pain, suffering, hunger, gunshots, and cold." Unable to continue Anya looked down into her lap and watch the leaves floating around in her tea. 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have spoken so... out of place about our government, I'm sure they are doing the best they can. I fear I'm not feeling quiet myself today, Comrade, our Russia is healing, and Leningrad is beautiful." Anya spoke after a slight pause. 

"No, I- I didn't realize you felt so strongly about this, your... feedback..." Gleb struggled to describe Anya's short rant, "is important, just- just be careful about how you word things, there are far less understanding people than I." Anya nodded at his warning before Gleb continued, "How about we turn our conversations to lighter topics..." 

"Do you know your soulmate?" Anya suddenly spoke up. At Gleb's shocked expression Anya quickly spoke up, "I'm sorry, that was rude to ask such a private question." Anya dismissed her previous statement with a wave. 

"No, it's alright, it was just unexpected, that's all." Anya could see Gleb's fingers wander over to his left wrist to linger there as he spoke, presumably over the name inscribed there. "No, I don't know my soulmate, and I don't think I ever shall..." 

"Why is that?" Anya tilted her head inquisitively. 

"She died, many years ago. Many people got caught up in the tangle of the revolution, she was unfortunate enough to be at the epicenter of it." Gleb stared harshly down at the wood grain of his desk as he spoke, as if repeating something he'd tried to comfort himself with before. 

Part of Anya ached for the man in front of her whose chosen was gone from this world, but the survival part of her told her she needed to leave, Gleb's soulmate was dead, she was most definitely not, something in her gut was telling her this could be the very man whose name was written on the tender skin of her right wrist, the Wrong Gleb. But how could that be for certain, maybe this was the Right Gleb, and on his left wrist, just mere inches from her, was her name, her real name, the one given to her at a proper christening, and not hastily at a hospital already ready to be rid of her. But still, the chance was too high, and Anya was leaving Russia in naught but a few months at most, days at least. There was no time for hopes, she'd already picked the dream which she'd pursue, and that was not the one of true love of her destined, but that of family.

With a sinking feeling deep in her chest Anya resigned herself to the warmth the cup in her hand offered, trying desperately not to feel the tightness that wrapped around her. Deep down Anya hoped that perhaps, this could be the wrong Gleb, and that the right Gleb was waiting for her in Paris at this very moment. 

Later that night as Anya tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable position on the sack of lentils she used as a pillow her restless mind wondered back to the encounter she'd had with Gleb. As she relived the memory Anya felt tears prickle up in her eyes in frustration at the confusion her mind felt. Why couldn't she be like everyone else? Why couldn't she remember her family, her name? Why did she have to have the same name written on both wrists, and not two different names? Groaning Anya sat up and looked around. After a short deliberation Anya figured she wouldn't be getting much sleep that night and silently stood from where she lay. With a quick look around at her sleeping companions Anya slipped out of the room and then from the palace and into the night. 

Anya pulled her coat closer around herself to ward off the cold as she tramped down the snow filled streets, the back of her mind wondering how hard work would be tomorrow. More than once Anya found herself turning onto different streets to avoid the drunken hoots of men who mistook her for something she was not. Wandering aimlessly through the streets Anya's mind began to wander elsewhere as well, images of misty people dancing in richly embroidered gowns, their skirts flowing around them, men laughing, the bubbly sound coming from the joy in their souls and not the bottom of an empty bottle. 

Mama said they threw him in a river, the thought crossed Anya's mind as she neared the bridge. Stabbed and shot him before throwing him in, she seemed to recall, furrowing her brow and wondering whom was thrown in the river exactly. It was thoughts like these that often crossed Anya's mind and made her wonder at what Dmitri and Vlad said, that perhaps she could be the missing princess. It seemed to be the only semi reasonable explanation for some of the ideas and thoughts that came to her sometimes. 

"Fancy meeting you here, comrade." Anya jumped, having been torn from her thoughts, and turned to the voice's owner. Her eyes widened when she recognized the man at the foot of the bridge stepping towards her. 

"Hello, Gleb." Anya responded, trying to be the least bit polite. 

"It's late." He commented as he stopped beside her, looking down into the icy water below. 

"I couldn't sleep." Anya shrugged. 

"That makes two of us." Gleb watched Anya out of the side of his eyes as she turned and followed his gaze down into the river. "What brings you to the river?" Gleb asked. 

Anya shrugged again and sighed, the fog from her breath trailing away into the night. "I don't know, I just....wound up here?" The statement came out more of a question. 

"It's beautiful." Gleb simply said. 

"It is." Anya agreed before the two fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound the water flowing and lapping at the frozen banks beneath them. 

"What's your story?" Gleb asked after a while, his voice breaking the still silence of the night. 

"What do you mean?" Anya turned her head to look at him. 

"Everyone has one, a story." Gleb said as way of explanation. 

"I- I don't know, I can't remember anything from before I woke up in that hospital, honest." 

"How'd you end up in Leningrad?" Gleb asked instead. 

"I walked here from Yekaterinburg." Anya recalled. 

"Yekaterinburg?" Gleb looked at her again, even in the pale moonlight he could've sworn he'd met her, or at least seen her before that day with the backfiring truck. 

"Da, it's where they found me." Anya answered.

"I lived their, in Yekaterinburg, for a while when I was younger. My father was stationed their during the revolution." Gleb turned and leaned back against the railing of the bridge. 

"It's horrible, what happened there." Anya copied his position and looked out across the bridge and up stream. 

Gleb wanted to correct Anya and tell her it had been a necessity what had happened in Yekaterinburg, that Russia could not grow whilst shackled. But some smaller, nobler part of him just wanted to be honest, and for some reason he gave into it. 

"I heard the shots," Gleb admitted looking down the pavement below, "I heard the screams..." Anya swallowed and after a short hesitation placed a hand on the conflicted man's arm. "The worst part was the silence that followed. When it was happening you thought the worst of it would be the screams of terror and the sound of the bullets, and lives being torn apart and ended, and all you could do was wish it were over... but the still quiet the followed," Gleb shook his head solomly, "was the worst by far." 

"I think I was there, sometimes." Anya spoke up, "In my dreams I can hear screaming and all I can see is the flash of fire. Sometimes I can almost feel them, the bullets." Gleb looked at the small woman next to him, her eyes were almost glazed over in a way, and his chest tightened. Her eyes, her hauntingly beautiful blue eyes...

No, Gleb stepped away without meaning to, She couldn't be- Anya's not- How desperately he hoped the timid Anya beside him was not the name scrawled across his right wrist. Anya isn't her given name, Gleb reminded himself, it was given to her when she didn't remember her own. Because if she were- Gleb knew what he would have to do, the gun in the pocket of his coat reminding Gleb of his duty. 

"Don't be silly." Gleb flinched at the near hurt on Anya's face when he spoke, "I didn't mean it like that, it's just, there's no way you were there, I mean, you're alive." 

"I suppose I am." Anya looked down, chewing on her lip. Gleb did have a point. 

"I suppose you're just a very empathetic person, and there's nothing wrong with that, it is perfectly reasonable to feel upset about the death of children, it's just important that you remember the necessity. Change is never easy, and it's rarely ever smooth." 

"I know." Anya looked back up. 

"Don't go chasing after dreams of dead princesses and of dispelled royalty. As your friend, Anya, be careful," Gleb chided gently. 

"My friend?" Anya looked up at him. 

"I'd like to be friends, I think, they're not easy to come by and I don't trust people, but I trust you." Gleb decided. 

"You've only known me for a day." Anya balked. 

"Whatever happened to being a child and knowing someone for all of five minutes before declaring friendship for life." Gleb asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

Anya seemed to think about this for a while before speaking abruptly. "I trust you too." Gleb watched her as she spoke, "I don't know why, and when you've spent all your life, that you can remember,to expect the worst from everyone. But I trust you. I've never had a friend, that I can remember, at least." Anya smiled up at Gleb. "I'd like to have a friend." A yawn interrupted Anya's smile and she quickly stiffled it into her sleeve. "Sorry," Anya said bashfully.

"It's getting late, do you have somewhere safe to sleep?" Gleb prodded gently. 

"Oh...yes. I really should be getting back." Anya excused herself. 

"Please, allow me to accompany you back, you never know who's lurking about." Gleb pointed out. 

"You don't have too, really, I can take care of myself." Anya reassured him. 

"And I don't doubt that," Gleb held up his hands in defeat, "if you are sure..." 

"I am, thank you though." Anya smiled gently, stepping away. 

"Take care, Anya, and do be careful." Gleb called out as Anya began walking away. Not knowing what to say to this, Anya turned back and nodded before continuing on her way. 

Gleb's warning stayed with Anya, echoing through her even now as she stood, staring at herself in front of the mirror, the dramatic red dress seeming almost out of place on her slight frame. Taking a shaky breath Anya straightened out her dress and pulled her gloves up on her arms from where they had slipped. Suddenly, a voice behind her startled her. 

"I thought I told you to be careful." 

"Gleb," Anya whirled around to face the man she'd called her friend. 

"Paris is no place for a good and loyal Russian." Gleb stepped towards her, clearly trying to keep his cool. 

"And yet here we both are." Anya said pointedly. 

"Indeed. Why are you doing this, Anya?" Gleb asked, his demeanor changing.

"You know why, Gleb." Anya exhaled. 

"Don't make me do this, Anya." Gleb pleaded. 

"No one's making you do anything, Gleb." Anya stepped forward.

"I don't have a choice, I never had a choice," Gleb stepped back and starred daggers into the ground. 

"What do you mean?" Anya furrowed her brow.

"Who are you?" Gleb ground out. 

"I don't know?" The answer came out more of a question. 

"Who are you?" Gleb asked again, this time with more force. 

"I am the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov." Anya said with more force than she meant to.

"End this lie, Anya, I beg it of you." Gleb pleaded. 

"We both know this isn't a lie Gleb." Anya clenched her fists.

"I know who you are, and who are not." Gleb's voice sounded forced, "And you cannot be her." Suddenly Anya found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. Staggering back Anya let out an audible gasp. With wide eyes Anya looked past the weapon to the man holding it, surprised at what she saw. In all the time Anya had known Gleb he'd been a paradigm of the cool, collected, calculating, and steady soldiers the Bolsheviks seemed to mass produce. The man standing before her did not seem nor look any of these. Anya could see the war being waged behind his eyes; he didn't know what to do next, and his body seemed to tremble, the hand holding the gun shaking with his finger no where near the trigger. He can't do it. Anya realized. 

Anya watched Gleb fight the war inside his head a little longer before his face fell completely, his knees giving in below him. Seeing Gleb's collapse was imminent, Anya forced herself and her pounding heart to get past the gun, and caught Gleb, managing to slow his decent to the ground. Somewhere behind them the gun fell to the floor from Gleb's hand and clanked loudly against the cool tiles of the marble floor. Anya sucked in breath when Gleb's arms came to rest around her, holding her in their limp grasp while Gleb buried his head into her shoulder whispering pleas for her forgiveness. Could the broken man in her arms really be her destined enemy? Anya wondered.

Back in Russia, and even now, part of her wanted Gleb to be the right Gleb, and despite it all, Anya had to admit she harbored some feelings for the man. It seemed that ever since their late night conversation on the bridge back in Petersburg, Anya's heart did a flip-flop at the sight of an olive green coat and dark hair, and a few times when the man turned confirming it to be Gleb, her heart would beat double time when he offered her one of his rare, kind, lopsided smiles.

"I don't understand..." Gleb whispered and somehow Anya understood. "I can't lose you, Anya, and I certainly can't be the one to pull the trigger." Gleb sounded utterly defeated. "I love you, Anya," his voice was much softer now, almost inaudible, "and I shouldn't, but I do, and I don't understand."

Hearing this Anya felt as if Gleb had managed to find the correct words to describe how she felt when she hadn't been able to. This had to be a mix up, a mistake made by the universe, and that's why her name was on his right wrist. The universe doesn't make mistakes, Anya reminded herself. But there must be some explanation, she thought. Suddenly Anya understood, and somehow in it's own twisted way, it made sense. 

"Gleb...I think- I think I understand." Anya moved her hands to Gleb's shoulders to look him in the face. Looking at him now Anya knew she was right. "I understand," Anya repeated, taking his wrists in her hands and deftly unbuttoning Gleb's cuffs. Dumbly Gleb watched as Anya pushed up the sleeves of his shirt. Anya sucked in a breath as she saw the names on Gleb's wrists. Anastasia on one and Anya, on the other. Slowly Anya peeled off the soft silk gloves to reveal her own wrists. 

"What does it mean?" Gleb whispered shifting his hands to take Anya's wrists now, brushing his thumbs over the scripted writing. 

"You're the same person," Anya whispered, "and we," Anya took hold of Gleb's wrists while he still held her own, "are the same person. Anya is your enemy because she was in the way of Anastasia, and to get to Anastasia you simply had to chase away Anya." 

Gleb looked at her with a new understanding in his eyes, "Perhaps we should start over?" 

"I think that would be good." Anya chuckled. 

Slowly Gleb helped Anya to her feet before holding out his hand to her. Anya took hold of Gleb's hand without hesitation, unable to help but smiling shyly up at him, as if they were indeed meeting for the first time. 

"I'm Gleb." Gleb needlessly introduced himself. 

"I'm Anastasia." Anya spoke, and somehow, somewhere, something shifted. And even though she had no way of knowing for certain, everything felt right. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave any questions, comment, concerns, and or interpretive dances in the comment section below. Feel free to send in your own requests to allthemonsters02@gmail.com with Glenya Request in the subject box. Commissions will be closed May 31, 2019- July 13, 2019 due to the fact I will be away at summer intensives.


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